


Die Like Heroes

by geekboyzayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1Dystopian, M/M, the canon for the au basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2129043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekboyzayn/pseuds/geekboyzayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Given no freedom. Give no mercy."</i> It's the code they live by. Z.A.P  wasn't started as a show of brutality like everyone thinks, they work to free the people who should not be caged, to bring life back to an old way of life that was killed with the start of the new age. Anonymous men set to try and right the wrong that their government is forcing onto it's people. </p>
<p>You either live like cowards or die like heroes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>1Dystopian au </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Die Like Heroes

**Winter** ; 142 e.o  
\-----  
 _When society was reestablished it was decided that they start a new. The ones in power, the scavengers that discovered the old world vaults, decide it to be better not to hang onto old ideals. It’s been five years since the war; the war that ended all semblance of normality. The people decide on the term ‘expletis omnibus’ meaning ‘after the end’. It’s fitting, no one knows how many people are left, all they know is if this technology they discovered will bring about anything, it’ll be what brings civilization back to the dead world._  
\-----

It’s cold, abnormally so even for the winter months. There’s two inches of snow covering nearly everything in the Slums and the winds blow in chilled from outside the walls of fallen buildings. Normally it doesn’t even snow, just freezes up and frosts the broken glass of the buildings. But things have been changing in recent years and the weather was no different. 

He hates it.

Normally, Zayn can stand spending the night on the roof, curled up in a jacket two sizes too large for him and a Savage 110 BA rifles within reaching distance. He’ll pull the bandana he’s been known for over his mouth and nose and press warm fingertips over the frozen condensation there when he’s bored. Not tonight though. The snow soaks through his clothes that aren’t meant to be worn in this season. He can feel the cold soak into his body from there. 

Zayn’s well aware of the worry it all brings, knows he can catch a cold or some other type of sickness from stay out for too long. There medical supplies are running short as of late and without vitamins and more iv bags he’d be just another of body in the street. 

But it’s not the cold that worries him. Not tonight at least. 

Zayns been watching the lights from Vanted search parties scoping the area east of their building. Watches through the scope of his gun as they pull people to the street. pressing their faces down in the snow. Innocent people they’ll take back to the work camps if they’re healthy enough to be of worth.

It’s not uncommon Vanted behavior, new fresh workers for the camps, more children for the Vanted training programs. If the people of Zone B don’t supply the demand for new bodies than they go looking for parents willing to sell their children for food or a chance to leave the Slums.

It’s a sad thought, but the worlds lost most of it’s good thoughts. 

What makes Zayn’s stomach turn is the fact he knows it wasn’t a herding mission. There’s a black suit mixed in with the stark white of Vanted footsoldiers. A general. They don’t send them out for minimal missions like these. He’s meant to be looking.  
Looking for Zayn and the other four boys.

Looking for the forty-five other rebels ( the last time he counted).

All wanted by the Centrics tyrannical government for terrorist activity. Acts of liberation is what Louis calls them. It’s all just violence, Zayn thinks. It’s all just blood on the ground. Lives ended in hopes of bringing new ones forth. The circle of life or some other storybook bullshit he never cared for. 

 

He lasts another ten minutes before the cold is too much. The shaking of his body is making it too hard to steady the rifle. He takes a breath, steadying himself enough to give one last look, trains his site over the black suited soldier. There’s a crack in it’s helmet, one that spiders all the down to the strap. Zayn stifles a breath, his grip choking up on the gun, finger tensing over the trigger.

He knows that Vanted. Knows because he put the crack in it’s visor.

Zayn rolls his shoulder, sets the gun back into the crook of his arm and he tries to steady again. Blinks his vision clear and then goes to take site. But he freezes before he can do anything. The black visor is turned towards him now. The dark and opaque quality of the mask make it near impossible to see through, but Zayn can feel the soldiers eyes on him. Staring straight through the night, through the scope and straight through him. 

He knows he should pull back, to drop below the ledge of the roof, out of sight, but he keeps staring, doesn’t move. The soldier stands there, almost robotic in stance, but it’s head tilts and the eerie feeling of it smiling creeps over Zayn. A moment passes and then it lifts a hand, points two fingers in a gun like fashion and points directly in his direction, before the soldier turns away, the other white suited soldiers following pace.

Zayn slowly inhale, leaning back, away from the scope of his gun finally. His body shivers, but it’s no longer from the cold of the snow now soaking him through.

Pulling a black tarp over the gun, Zayn shakes his shoulders, stretching until he can feel the crack in his back. His muscles ache from the cold and strain that he’d put them through staying as still as he could in his previous position. This was a constant ache though, one Zayn, like all the others, had gotten used to with time. Tolerance for pain was bred into them now, aching muscles were nothing more than a fading itch. 

Zayn squints into the distance, one last look, before turning on his heel, quick to get himself off the roof and out of the wind. It was late anyway and he hadn’t slept in a good day or so. Any excuse he could muster to hide from the intense worry he was feeling. 

\-----

“What are you trying to do? Pat me on the back and thank me for a job well done. “ Louis grunts out the words as he sends a punch at Liams jaw. Sneering when it catches and Liam stumbles back with a groan, hand instantly lifting to press onto the already red area. 

“Thought we said no contact?” Liam grumps, dropping his hand away from his jaw and lifting his fists instead. Louis scoffs, rolls one shoulder after the other as he bounces happily on the pads of feet. 

“When have we ever fought gloves off and not had contact?” Louis lifts his fists to mirror Liam, still grinning like the smug ass that he is. “ Give me some credit, Brave, that was a good hit.” He passes a glance over his shoulder, smiles up in the direction of Niall who’s perched with his legs dangling off the upper catwalk. “ Was a good hit, eh Bonesy?”

“Your form was shit.” Niall offers a thumbs up with a small grin. “ Do better. “

Louis flips him the middle finger, rolling his eyes and focussing back in on Liam with a scowl. “Shit form my ass. I call fucking favoritism between you two.” Louis pops forward aims another hit for Liam’s jaw only to get his hand slapped back and an open handed hit to his ribs. “Fucker!”

Niall is cackling by then, leaning on the rusted guard rail for a better view, his laughter bubbling up each time Liam blocks Louis and then smacks him. It’s obviously burning Louis deeply, his attack pattern became more frenzied and quick. They’ve went from practice sparing to full on fighting. 

“Stop being a little bitch, Liam. Fucking hit me.” Louis hisses, punching at Liam’s ribs and connects but at the cost of leaving himself unprotected. He feels the sharp hit of a knee to his side and he falls off to the side, body curving in on itself on the ground. Liam’s breathing heavy above him, hand wrapped around his chest and he’s angry (that’s as much as Louis can gather from the look he’s giving him). 

“We done?” Louis glares up at him defiantly, spits near the other boys feet in a challenge that only gets a roll of Liams eyes as response. 

Liam turns then, glances up at Niall who’s just grinning wide, motions to his mouth and liam takes it as a hint, lifts a hand and wipes a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t realized he’d been bleeding. 

It’s when Liam has his back to him that Louis stands, hand pressed to his side where the heat of a forming bruise can be felt. There’s a moment he contemplates walking away, licking his wounds and glaring at Liam like the petulant man child that he is well aware that he is. Louis of course isn’t known for his brilliance in combat situations, his temper gets the better of him and this time is no different. 

In a moment he’s up on his feet and lunging for Liam, aiming for his midsection. He means to take the younger man down, but instead he finds his face pressed down hard onto the concrete floor, a hand at the back of his neck and a knee digging into his lower spine. Liam’s always been quicker and he knows Louis well enough to have expected this. 

Niall whoops with laughter. The creak of the metal as he falls back against the grated cat walk in hysterics is the only other sound in the room next to his laughter. Louis’ breathing heavy, nostrils flared in annoyance and the red burn of a blush that flushes his cheeks goes even more red when Liam tightens his grip on Louis’ neck.

“Are you quite finished?” Liam doesn’t normally use a harsh tone with the boys, but Louis’ always been the exception. The pinned man growls, feral as ever, before placating, whining like a petulant child and swatting awkwardly at Liam.

“Yeah, yeah. Get off me, fuckhead.” Nialls still laughing once Liam’s let go, standing followed shortly by Louis scrambling to his feet. “And you shut the fuck up bone bag!” He shoots a middle finger up towards Niall, grumbling incoherent words as he shoves past Liam. Louis often leaves the sparring matts bitter and angry, but the boys have learned to accept that. It keeps him annoyed and the shorter the fuse, the more dangerous Louis is. 

Liam follows the older male’s exit with his eyes, sighs quietly to himself. He spares a glance up to the spectator of their fight and Nialls grinning back down at him, thoroughly amused. “You shouldn’t egg him on like that. He’ll snap.”

“He don’t snap, gotta be rigid to snap. Lou just gets tangled the angrier he gets.”

“A rope has an end point, Niall.” Liam states quickly before their attention turns to roof access stairs.

The large metal door is pushed open. A harsh gale wind moaning through the doorway from the outside, along with a cold that instantly coats the inside of the warehouse. Liam shivers as Zayn shakes the snow off his shoulders and pulls back his hood. His skin is flushed from the cold, slightly burnt from the winds and he fights back the urge to sniff, his sinuses finally thawing. There’s a moment when Zayn glances from Liam to Niall and then back before he finally closes the door.

“Things are changing. Weathers bad. Vanted’s out.” 

“Vanted’s always out.” Niall states, the mood growing somber as Zayn tosses his wet jacket off to side, catching on an old broken chair and staying. 

“Took some waste kids. Ripped them out of their beds.” Zayn doesn’t say it to either of them in particular, but he glances up at Niall. The blonde male is visibly upset, brows knitting forward in anger and his knuckles having grown white on the bars from squeezing too tight. The familiarity of the circumstance obviously fanning the flames in Niall’s belly. 

“They’re not ‘spose to do raids this late. Middle of the winter like that. They’ll kill those kids in the cold.” Liam pulls the attention on himself, breaks the intense look that falls between Zayn and Niall. They’ll do something stupid if they’re left to themselves and Liam is very aware of that. 

“They’ll kill ‘em no matter what. Centric doesn’t want the waste dogs mixing with their pedigree breeds.” He offers a glance in Zayn’s direction, an apology for the term. “They’re exterminating them, not taking them for a new gene pool additive.“ Niall is clearly frustrated, stares Liam down for even slightly insinuating that the Vanted are anything more than the filth of the earth. 

Liam looks to Zayn for help, but he’s staring away from the pair of them, uninterest or smart enough to not get himself involved. 

“Is Ghost in yet it’s co- oh, umm, what are we talking about?” Harry pops up from one of the side rooms, eyes wide as he glances up at the two boys on the catwalk and then at Liam. 

The silence lasts for a long moment before Liam turns to say something to Harry but the creek of the catwalk draws them both to look back up as Niall stands, tapping Zayn’s shoulder in passing. He’s not angry, as far as Liam can tell, but it doesn’t stop him from frowning shaking his head as he and Zayn disappear into one of the buildings rooms.

“Well that was awkward.” Harry gives Liam a worried look, worrying his thumb over one of lenses of his goggles clenched in his hands. He was never one for conflict in the group, even as minor as the battle of compassion that they often fight amongst themselves. 

“It’s just Bones. Things will be fine in the morning.” Liam’s attention goes to unwrapping the bonds on his hands, cringing when the pressure leaves letting the soreness seep in. Harry watches him, rubbing an invisible spot off the glass of his goggles. “What’s wrong Haz?”

“Nothing, just worried about things is all. “ He finally stops his assault on the glass, tucks the stolen nightvision into his back pocket. 

Liam looks at him curiously. “ About what?”

“About everything.” Normally Harry keeps this to himself, stores it away knowing they don’t need his panic added to the stresses they all already face. But Liam’s strong. He deals with things better than any of the others and Harry made up his mind a long time ago that, that was the reason he spoke to him so freely.  
“Gonna need to be a bit more specific about that, Bambi. “ Liam offers a comforting smile, reaching a hand out to clench Harry’s shoulder before walking past him to a barrel of melted snow. The water’s ice cold and numbs the burn of his overworked hands. 

“Well lets start off with this whole plan Bones and Louis’ cooked up? Blowing up the main out post along the Zone B wall? It’s the heaviest guarded outposts along any of the walls.” Harry keeps his voice low, glances over his shoulder to where Bones drifted off with his skeleton friend. 

“That’s their point. We take out the outpost, then claiming Zone B will be easier, less to worry about.” Liams questioned the idea already, mulling over it since the meeting yesterday when it was discussed. He knows the boys mean well for it, it’s tactical, albeit foolish beyond all belief. He can understand the worry surrounding it. 

“My point is we can’t, can we?” Harry says, exasperated. Liam pulls his hands from the water, waving them slightly to air dry before finally turning to look at him. 

“Niall and Louis think we can.”

“Do you?” Harry crosses his arms, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkling in concern. 

Liam sighs, lifting a hand to the back of his neck to rub at the tightening muscle there. “Doesn’t really matter what i think. Not when I’d willingly follow them both into death. “

"That's not a good enough answer, Liam."

"It's the only one i've got."

“Liam-” Harry starts but Liam waves a hand at him to stop. There’s a clatter from the stairs to the basement before Louis comes into view, the remnants of a sandwich on plate in one hand and a scowl on his face. 

“Tripped up the fucking stairs...Why do you two look so glum?”

“No reason!” Harry quickly interjects before Liam can even open his mouth. Pulling a fake smile wide on his lips before turning on his heel. “Was saying goodnight to Brave. Right, well im off. Nighty night!” He waves back at them both, ducking into his room off from what was the main office of the building. 

Liam follows his movements with his eyes before looking back at Louis, who’s looking at him as confused as ever. He shrugs, offering a slight smile before walking past, patting Louis on the back as he goes. 

“You both need to stop taking weirdo stoic lessons from Zayn.” Louis calls after them, stuffing part of the sandwich into his mouth before stalking off to his own room.

**Author's Note:**

> So i'm finally posting for the canon fic that i promised what like four months ago. like the horrible person i am i'm making it a chaptered fic, probably four or five parts in totally. Hope you guys like it <3


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